


Little Secret

by Fontainebleau



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, Improvised Sex Toys, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 16:44:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22719082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fontainebleau/pseuds/Fontainebleau
Summary: What does Billy Rocks keep in his bag?
Relationships: Goodnight Robicheaux/Billy Rocks
Comments: 14
Kudos: 32





	Little Secret

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Маленький секрет](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9896585) by [Kai Ender (kaiender)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiender/pseuds/Kai%20Ender). 



> This is a translation of Kai Ender's _Malenkii Sekret_ ; I've always thought it deserved a wider audience. Many thanks to the author for permission to translate it; I hope everyone enjoys it!

Billy and Goody shared most things, trading tobacco, whisky and clean socks back and forth as needed; the way they lived hardly allowed them to be particular about their possessions. But right from the start Billy had insisted that his saddlebag stay strictly private. ‘I don’t want you rummaging through it getting everything mixed up,’ he told Goody sternly. ‘I have to be able to find things when I need them.’ 

And under normal circumstances Goody wouldn’t have had a problem with that – the idea of digging about in someone else’s dirty underwear was hardly appealing. But Billy’s bag this was different: ordinary though it looked, seemed to have some kind of magic about it which let Billy reach into it and come up with just about anything, no matter how improbable, from stomach-ache pills to the seal of the district court of Davis County. Goody itched to find out exactly what was in there, but though he often eyed it with frustrated curiosity he was a man of his word and he was careful to keep his hands and his nose to himself.

Then, one hot afternoon when they’d found a room and some long-delayed privacy, the unexpected happened. Goody was sitting back on the bed, sweaty and panting, with a glow of justified pride. It wasn’t often that he could bring undemonstrative Billy to a state of such voluptuous abandon: he lay sprawled out on the covers loose-limbed with pleasure, his lips red and kiss-swollen and his skin bruised with the marks of teeth and tongue.

The sight of him, so wanton and exposed, set Goody burning with lust and he reached to the dresser for the oil, desperate to finish what he’d started, to slick himself up, slide into Billy’s yielding heat and press cheek-to-cheek, breath mingling as they rode the waves of pleasure together. But groping on the dresser his fingers found no bottle: in the heedless throes of passion it had been knocked down and spilt across the dusty floor. ‘Damnation,’ he swore, then with a regretful tug at Billy’s cock, ‘No more oil, cher.’

Billy writhed impatiently. ‘Look in my bag,’ he urged.

The bag! Goody had reason to bless its mysterious abilities as he slid from the bed, crouching down and fumbling among its rattling contents for the bottle’s distinctive shape. At last his fingers closed on the right container and he pulled it out triumphantly, but as he did so a second object came rolling out onto the scratched boards at his feet. It had a thick wooden handle covered in bumps and knobbles, painted in white, black and blue under a glossy varnish; one end of it was fashioned into a ball with an eyelet for a cord, while the other was a cone of bristles half as long as the handle. 

Intrigued, Goody picked it up together with the bottle and padded back to the bed. ‘What’s this?’ Billy opened one eye as Goody climbed back, straddling his hips and setting the oil on the dresser so he could examine his new find. ‘Another of your secrets?’ 

He rolled it experimentally over Billy’s stomach with his palm and Billy squirmed, ticklish. ‘What are you doing?’ he protested.

‘What is it?’ insisted Goody, trailing the wooden ball lightly over Billy’s ribs.

‘It’s-‘ Billy’s words choked off as Goodnight turned the toy over to tickle his nipple with the fur. 

Goodnight chuckled. ‘Cat got your tongue? Guess I’ll just have to figure it out for myself.’

This was the kind of challenge Goodnight enjoyed. ‘Let’s see,’ he teased, drawing the bristles back down Billy’s stomach to his groin to circle delicately around his cock and tease at his balls. Billy’s eyes fluttered closed again, though his mouth curved up mischievously at the sensation and his flagging cock began to swell once more. Goodnight chuckled. ‘Like that, huh?’ It was all the encouragement he needed to set about experimenting with this toy in earnest. 

First he rolled it gently over Billy’s thigh with the flat of his hand, the way a fine cigar is supposed to be made; under its knobbly caress Billy stretched like a cat being petted. Dragging the wooden tip across the dip of his belly proved less effective, setting Billy squirming in discomfort; but a lighter touch let him draw on Billy’s skin, pale lines that faded after a moment like the foam left by a wave, and Goody took his time tracing patterns and words onto his golden skin, following them with tender nips and kisses.

Then he had the idea of hanging the toy on its loop from his finger so it dangled like a pendulum, the furry tip just grazing Billy’s skin. Billy tensed beneath him, eyes still closed: each unexpected caress drew a shiver or a catch of breath from him as though at a tiny spark. The cone of fur was too soft to scratch but springy enough to tease, bending like the tip of a paintbrush, and as Goody’s strokes grew firmer Billy began to respond, shifting to chase each fleeting touch. 

Enthralled by the mysterious object’s effect, Goody touched and teased with exquisite patience, drawing the wooden ball firmly across Billy’s skin to leave a line, flipping it over to smooth and tickle or stroking with long tantalising strokes; and under his caresses Billy began to gasp with frustrated arousal, a flush rising on his chest and the pulse in his throat jumping. Goody kept on teasing, a quick touch to his nipple, a gentle brush along his soft inner thigh, a firmer stroke along his cock and the most delicate of touches to the tip to bring him arching off the bed, stifling a moan. 

Goody leant back, drinking in the sight – Billy in a fever of desire, lips bitten and hair dishevelled, taut as a bow as he strained for Goody’s touch. How could anyone resist? He tossed the toy aside and seized the oil. It was all he could do to control himself as he slicked up first Billy, then himself, and sank between his knees, lining himself up. ‘Come on,’ urged Billy desperately, ‘now, Goody, please...’ 

Finally, finally, Goody pressed in inch by delicious inch, rocking forward into the blissful heat, and Billy pulled him in with a savage urgency, arms wrapping around him and heels pressing into his back. A flame of heat, piercing and sweet, arrowed from Goody’s groin to his crown, and as Billy bucked beneath him, hands on Goody’s hips to grind them closer still, Goody caught his lips in a ravenous kiss. 

The exquisite pressure and heat were overwhelming: Goody thrust desperately, unable to restrain himself, riding an expanding bubble of white-hot pleasure; his hand found Billy’s cock and Billy cried out, his pleasure too heightened to last as he spilled into his orgasm. Goody’s hips stuttered as Billy tightened around him, chasing his own climax; then Billy turned his head and set his teeth into the crook of Goody’s arm, biting down on the sensitive skin, and the stab of heated pleasure-pain tipped him over into the bliss of release.

He came to awareness again with Billy’s fingers combing softly through his hair, his lips pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder. Lapped in the afterglow, nerves alive down the whole length of his body, he stretched and wound himself closer around Billy, warm and lax as he was. ‘Back in the land of the living?’ murmured Billy, amused, as Goody nuzzled into his hair. 

Goodnight rolled over to face him, reaching for his lips again – and let out a stifled curse as his knee jarred against a solid wooden handle. He fished around underneath them and came up with the toy, holding it out on his palm, eyebrows raised. ‘It’s a calligraphy brush,’ Billy laughed softly. ‘But I have to say, I admire your powers of invention.’

‘One of my strengths, I like to think,’ agreed Goodnight, lips quirking. He set the brush on Billy’s chest and sank back down beside him, black hair tickling at his cheek. ‘I’m sure I could think of a few more uses for it.’ He grinned at Billy, eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘And anything else you might happen to have in there.’

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
